


Fire and Brimstone

by flibbertygigget



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Character Death (Discussed), Euthanasia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Religious Mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: In the aftermath of The Final Frontier, Spock learns more about McCoy than he ever expected.





	

Leonard McCoy stared, unseeing, into the amber liquid and forced himself to breath.

It had been a long time since he had drank like this, like straight whiskey was the only thing that could fill the pit in his stomach and wear down the jagged edges of his throat and make him feel like he wasn't so damn _gutted_. The only reason the tumbler in front of him was still full was because he had already tried and failed to lift it twice. It was hard to grab something that kept moving around.

Someone sat in front of him, wavering, blurred. He knew that uniform, that haircut, those damn pointy ears. A long-fingered hand stretched out and slid the whiskey away from him.

"I believe that you have had enough of that, Doctor," Spock said softly. McCoy let out a bark of a laugh.

"'S never enough, Spock," he slurred. "Now gimme back that." Spock made no move. McCoy considered, for a moment, reaching for it himself, but it would be just his luck to overbalance and end up flat on the ground. "Spock!" he whined, the "o" coming out as a long, Southern "ah."

"You are distressed," Spock said.

"Brilliant observation," McCoy said. "Jus' stunnin' where all that logic'll get you."

"You are distressed," Spock repeated. "In the past, you have encouraged numerous crew members to seek companionship rather than attempt to cope alone."

"I ain't alone." Spock raised an eyebrow. "The whiskey, Spock. 'S a joke."

"I do not find your remark humorous."

"You wouldn't." McCoy looked down at his hands, grasping the edge of the table. "Did I ever tell you 'bout my Daddy?"

"You have not," Spock said. "I presume that what Sybok showed you had to do with him."

"Yeah, somethin' like that." McCoy glanced up at Spock, but the Vulcan didn't give away any hints of what he thought. McCoy had never thought that would be comforting. "My Daddy was an old-style preacha. Yeah, yeah, I know, illogical thin' to be, but 'e was - 'e was a good man. Whether that was because or in spite of 'is profession is up to you." McCoy took a deep breath, wishing that Spock wasn't holding his whiskey hostage. "He got sick, real sick. There wasn't a cure. I couldn' - I kept 'im alive as long as I could, kept tellin' 'im that I would find 'im a cure. But in the end 'e-"

"It was not your fault." Spock reached out to hesitantly touch McCoy's hand, but the doctor snatched it away as though burned. "I know you, Doctor, and I know that you would never stop trying to cure a patient until they were either well or beyond your help." McCoy screwed up his eyes, trying desperately not to let the tears he knew were there peek through.

"If you think that, Spock, you're a bigga fool than I thought," he said. Spock simply looked at him calmly, waiting for him to continue. "My Daddy - 'e wasn't the fire and brimstone type, not exactly, but 'e was still... 'E knew 'is Scripture, and 'e kept it. 'E had 'is oath, jus' like I 'ave mine." McCoy was only half talking to Spock now, eyes fixed on the table as though the scratches on the surface held the answer to all his problems. "Thou shalt not kill. First, do no 'arm. I'd tried my damnedest to live by both up 'til then. But in the end... In the end 'e was jus' a man."

"He asked for you to euthanise him." Spock reached for his hand again, and this time McCoy didn't pull away. McCoy nodded.

"'E was - 'E was in so much pain, Spock. I shouldn't've... But it seemed 'opeless. No one in the 'istory of medicine was able to cure it, how could we be so conceited as to think we could? And 'e was askin' - 'e was beggin' me to jus' kill 'im and 'ave it over with. I couldn't-"

"I understand," Spock said.

"No, you don't, but thanks anyways," McCoy said. "I kept helpin' the research team afterwards, of course, figurin' that the least I could do was try an' prevent others from dyin' like that. An' then-" McCoy grimaced, wishing more than ever for the whiskey. "An' then, jus' two weeks later, we 'ad a breakthrough. A few days after that, we were able to cure a kid who 'ad the same disease." Tears were staining his cheeks now, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Two weeks, Spock. Two fuckin' weeks. If I 'ad jus' told 'im no, if 'e had jus' held on a little bit longer... An' the worst part is that 'e could've! I know tha' disease inside an' out, 'e would've lasted another month or so. If I 'adn't - If I 'ad jus' kept my oath, 'e would've lived!"

"Doctor..." Spock hesitated, eyes searching McCoy's face for the right words to say. "You had no way of knowing that a breakthrough was near. At the time, it seemed to be the best solution."

"I wish I could see it like that," McCoy said. "But the more I think over it, the more I realize that I jus'... I gave up on 'im, jus' like 'e gave up on 'imself. I thought that I was bein' merciful, lettin' 'im go like that, but what good is all that when I couldn't _know_." McCoy glared down at where Spock's hand rested on his, disgusted at himself. "I decided to play God, and 'e payed for it." Spock was silent for a moment.

"I do not know what to say," he said. McCoy shook his head.

"I ain't expectin' you to say anythin'. I jus'-" He broke off, but Spock nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I can't do this alone tonight, not after all that." Spock nodded, looking about as guilty as the Vulcan ever got. Perhaps the next morning McCoy would apologize, would tell Spock that he wasn't responsible for whatever got twisted in his brother's mind. More likely he would leave without a word, unwilling to bare his soul any more than had already been done. But for now, for now he was too raw to do anything but practically beg the Vulcan to stay.

"Very well," Spock said, his hand gently squeezing McCoy's.


End file.
